


Pity the Male

by addledwalrus



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1950s Slang, 1970s, Alcohol, Attraction, Bedrooms, Bitterness, Class Differences, Consensual Infidelity, Conversations, Daughters, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Driving, Euphemisms, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Friendship, Gen, Gender Roles, Generation Gap, Historical, Humor, Husbands, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insecurity, Jealousy, Male Protagonist, Male-Female Friendship, Marriage, Mother-Son Relationship, Newspapers, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Parody, Platonic Relationships, Pop Culture, Relationship Issues, Sexual Dysfunction, Shock, Sleeping Together, Suspicions, Teen Angst, Teenagers, Trust, Trust Issues, Wives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-09-02 23:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16796836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addledwalrus/pseuds/addledwalrus
Summary: Middle aged family man Roger Sullivan copes with his unfulfilling life in the 1970s.





	1. Chapter 1

_It was a typical Friday evening for one Mr. Roger Sullivan, whom entertained himself by reading the daily news while his lovely wife Lesley washed dishes in the kitchen. Their pretty and clever seventeen-year-old daughter Barbara was doing her homework upstairs, or so the teenager had claimed earlier._

_Life was good._

_"Honey, I'm in the mood for a game of chess later. What do you say?" Roger asked as he reached the sports section of the newspaper and Lesley moved on to wiping the bench clean._

_"Why, Roger, I'd love to..." Lesley replied with a radiant smile before putting down the dishcloth and removing her gloves._

_She ran over and knelt down to give her husband a kiss on the cheek. He blushed and beamed, enjoying the affection until Barbara came back downstairs, looking quite charming in a new blue dress._

_"Daddy..." She spoke up while simpering sweetly and twirling her blonde hair with one finger. "It's eight o'clock. You know what that means..."_

_"I don't know, kitten. Could you remind me?"_

_"I have a date with Stephen Donovan. We're going to see Oklahoma!"_

_"That Stephen?!" Roger responded in alarm. "Oh no, kitten!"_

_"What's wrong, Daddy?" Barbara asked as she nervously began to chew on her nails. "He's a dreamboat and I love him."_

_"You don't understand the half of it. He runs with a dangerous crowd and a boy like him is only going to end up in a bad place. Tell me, do you want that sort of trouble in your life?"_

_"I guess you're right, Daddy. I don't know what I even saw in him..."_

_"That's my girl. Now go back upstairs and keep studying."_

_"Sure will, Daddy!"_

* * *

_"Goddamn it..."_ Roger thought in deep dismay when he woke up to find that instead of the perfect wife in his dream, the person lying beside him was a woman with disheveled hair and dry lips whose best years were far behind her.

Of course, as a forty-three-year-old business executive, he was no spring chicken either. Nor was he some tough paragon of masculinity like Burt Reynolds or Steve McQueen. He was just another tedious white-collar worker trapped by routine until old age forced him to retire.

Despite knowing that prospects weren't much better for his wife Lesley, he still envied her for being able to do something that she was at least a little passionate about.

"Lesley..." He said softly while forcing himself to sit up and hearing his bones creak. "Are you awake?"

She opened her eyes just wide enough to gaze up at him.

"Yes, Roger?"

"I'm heading downstairs to get ready. Take care of yourself and have a good time at work..."

She didn't reply and simply rolled over to get a little more rest. He sighed before stepping slowly out of bed to face another day and hoping that the time would pass quickly.

He considered knocking on his daughter Barbara's door after finishing in the bathroom, but decided against it when he thought about how the teenager was already hard enough on herself without a parent to monitor things.

 _"Heredity is a strange thing..."_ He thought while approaching the stairs. _"She's got my nose and lips, Lesley's eyes, and my father's-"_

Roger stopped by the framed photo of his father Irving that hung on the wall. He reached out to touch the glass and couldn't believe that the old man was gone already.

* * *

The sight of neighborhood boy Steve sitting bored on the living room couch hardly shocked Roger when he came home on Friday night.

It had become a common occurrence for the long-haired teenager to seek refuge in their house and though Roger could empathize with having a missing parent, he didn't understand how any child could detest their mother so much.

An even greater mystery was what exactly Barbara saw in Steve and vice-versa. From Roger's experience, girls tended to go mad over troubled boys, yet their relationship so far seemed to be completely platonic.

It occurred to Roger that he might learn something by talking to Steve directly. Perhaps it would even be a chance for him to reassert dominance over someone and feel like a real man again.

_"If I can't be a boss to my wife and daughter, maybe I can be one to a misguided kid like you..."_

"May I speak to you for a few minutes, Steve?" He said in his most authoritarian voice after clearing his throat.

Steve turned to look shyly up at him as if intimidated by his presence. It was working already.

"Uh, sure, Mr Sullivan..."

Roger knew that sitting down would give the message that they were equals, so he chose to remain standing despite his sore legs.

"I want you to tell me the truth. How do you feel about Barbara?"

"I...well, she's a friend."

"A friend?"

"Yeah..." Steve replied quietly while shifting his legs closer toward the rest of his body.

"What sort of friend?"

"I don't know. How many sorts do _you_ have?"

Roger was slightly taken aback by such a response. He hadn't expected to hear this boy scathingly place emphasis on the word 'you' when he'd been rather apathetic beforehand.

"Well, if you ask me, there are two types. A close friend, you feel comfortable telling your secrets to. A 'work' friend on the other hand, is someone you only talk to because you want to stay on good terms. You might say hello to them every morning and send them cards at Christmas, but you wouldn't count on them to help you out when you're in a jam."

"You...you middle-class workers are weird..." Steve remarked, looking quite confused. "Why would you send Christmas cards to people you don't really care about?"

"Are you drunk, son?"

"No, my life is just too far removed from your's."

"You haven't answered my earlier question. How do you feel about-"

"I know what you asked me before. I'm not stupid."

"Then tell me. As her father, I have a right to find out."

Steve hesitated in such a way that Roger feared that his suspicions would turn out to be true. However, the teenager's answer soon eased his anxiety a little.

"I guess we're close. I feel safer around her and she talks to me like I'm an actual person..."

"So, would you say that you two are just friends? You haven't done anything you weren't supposed to, have you?"

"Why don't you ask her? You won't believe me anyway."

Roger found himself feeling distrustful again. He glared ahead while not wishing to let Steve out of his sight.

"I'll do that later, but for now, my eyes are on you until you decide to leave."

"You're going to be waiting a while. My Mom has a knife..."


	2. Chapter 2

Barbara's driving had improved considerably over the past few months and Roger found that he no longer needed to be vigilant all the time. He leaned his head back against the seat while observing her intense expression.

It was during times like this that he wished to see her giggling and playful five-year-old self again, rather than a secretive adolescent whom he could never understand.

They returned home in time for dinner and later on to his growing suspicion, she was once again a little too eager to take out the trash.

"Don't you think it's strange?" He said to Lesley while she focused on scrubbing a pot clean.

"What's strange?" She replied without looking up.

"That Barbara always has to be the one to do it. Only time a teenager is like that, they're trying to hide something."

"Oh, Roger..." Lesley sighed, placing the pot and her scourer aside. "You know that she's not like other kids. She's a good girl, unlike the ones who get high and listen to loud music all the time."

Roger wasn't convinced by his wife's optimism and voiced his disagreement.

"The thing is, kids are getting smarter. You never can tell what they do when you aren't around."

"Then what do you suggest? Attach some device to her like in those spy shows?"

"No, I..." Roger said in hesitation, unnerved by his wife's scathing tone.

"You worry too much. She's fine and there's nothing wrong with her."

Barbara rushed back in as soon as Lesley finished speaking. The teenager ran straight for the bathroom without a word and slammed the door shut behind her.

"You were saying?" Roger countered while unsure of what to make of such behavior.

"Oh, shut up. Cleanliness is a good thing."

* * *

Roger approached his daughter's room and knocked twice on the door before he heard her voice from within.

"Coming, Dad..."

She opened the door a minute later and stared anxiously up at him in the same way Steve had done.

"What is it?"

"Barbara, I want to hear it from you. What's the deal between you and that boy?"

"You mean Steve?"

"Who else?"

Barbara began to inch out into the hall. Roger stepped back to allow her some room.

"Dad, we've been friends ever since grade school. I thought you knew that."

"But you're seventeen now. Don't things change when you get older?"

"What? No..." Barbara said with a look of surprise and disbelief. "That's not true. It would be like...like dating my brother..."

"So, you don't feel anything when you're around him?"

"Well, sometimes. But I think it's just that I end up having fun whenever we're together..."

"Fun? What sort of fun?"

Barbara grew tense and her eyes shifted elsewhere.

"It might be hard to believe, but he's really interested in gardening..."

"Gardening?" Roger remarked while having the slightest inkling that his daughter was actually using some unusual euphemism.

"He's especially good when it comes to pot plants..."

"Pot plants?"

"The oregano's his favorite..."

Roger was feeling rather confused by now. His daughter's description of Steve's pastime sounded innocent enough, but he couldn't shake away the suspicion that something else was going on.

"You expect me to believe a boy like that is a gardener?"

"Yes. How do you think he copes with life at home?"

Roger remembered how afraid Steve had been to return home to his mother and decided to accept Barbara's words for the time being, though not before making a special request.

"If he's really what you say he is, I'd appreciate it if you brought something back next time. That way, there'd be one less thing for your mother to buy."

"Of course. I'll remember that..."

"Great. Now, I think I've taken enough of your time and should be going. Have a good night..."

"You too, Dad."

Roger gave his daughter a smile to show that no love was lost, then made his way to the room where Lesley waited.

He found her sitting beneath the covers and reading the latest issue of _Vogue_.

"Are you up for anything tonight, honey?" He asked while climbing into bed to join her. "We're not old _yet_..."

Lesley put her magazine down and gave him a stern look.

"No, Roger. I've got a headache..."

"Again?"

"Is it so hard to believe? My time of the month is coming again soon..."

Roger turned to make eye contact with his wife.

"That's a good thing, honey. We could still make another baby, if you-"

Lesley retrieved her magazine and used it to smack him right in the face before slipping out of bed.

"Don't even think about it. You know I can't handle another..."

No further words were exchanged as she stormed out of the room. The sound of her descending the stairs filled Roger with a sense of failure and he realized that it would take a major change to reawaken the passion she used to feel for him.

_"I need to start getting back into shape. And maybe grow a mustache..."_

* * *

"That Steve's not too bad, you know..." Lesley spoke up as she added items to the shopping list. "I don't know why you're so distrustful of him."

Roger immediately lowered his glass of whiskey and tried to explain himself.

"I'm not distrustful, I'm cautious."

"Oh, really? Keep telling yourself that."

"What's the matter, Lesley? Are you saying it's wrong that I want to protect our girl?"

"That's not the impression I've gotten this week. You've been so focused on that boy, it's almost like you're jealous..."

Roger's attempt not to laugh nearly resulted in him choking.

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous? He's a seventeen-year-old whose father ran out on him..."

"And does it make him much different from you at that age? You're not trying to look out for Barbara, you're trying to live through _him_..."

Roger was speechless and had to take a few more gulps of his drink, before he found the courage to keep talking.

"Lesley, are you still attracted to me?" He asked earnestly with flushed cheeks.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Be honest. I know I'm not what I used to be and you were always out of my league..."

"Roger..."

"Tell me the truth, please. I won't hold it against you."

"Well..." Lesley began hesitantly. "...no."

"I knew it."

"But that doesn't mean I still don't love you. I just think we shouldn't have to express it physically..."

"Then what do you want? A dead bedroom?"

Lesley realized the flaw in her proposal and lowered her head in guilt.

"I don't know what we can do, besides...besides..."

"Besides what?"

"See other people."

Roger couldn't believe his ears and had to grip the edge of the kitchen bench to steady himself.

"But what about our marriage? What about Barbara?!"

"She doesn't have to know. We'll keep it all outside this house..."

Unfortunately, no sooner had Lesley said those words, Barbara re-emerged from the bathroom with a look of horror on her face.

"Mom, Dad, no! That's disgraceful!"


End file.
